


New Friends

by froggy (therealfroggy)



Series: Striptease II [5]
Category: Prison Break
Genre: First Time, Incest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2012-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-22 13:59:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/610572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealfroggy/pseuds/froggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>LJ wants to know what he's been missing out on, and decides to take matters into his own hands and get his share of the action.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Exploring some inclinations

**Author's Note:**

> Pairings contained herein (with graphic sex for each pairing):  
> LJ/T-Bag  
> LJ/Sucre  
> LJ/Abruzzi  
> LJ/Michael  
> LJ/Lincoln.
> 
> Do not read if any of this offends you. When I originally posted the story at prisonbreakfic.net, I had no angry messages, but that was a different crowd. Read responsibly :)

_“Oh God, Lincoln,” Michael moaned, writhing against the older man. “Lincoln, I love you.”_

_“You love this too,” Lincoln whispered playfully, “feeling my cock inside you.”_

_Michael's breath hitched in his throat as Lincoln bit gently at his nipple, pulling his little brother closer to him. Michael was sitting in his lap, facing him, his legs curled around Lincoln's waist; and it felt like a wonderful deja vu. Thrusting deeply into the beautiful man in his arms, Lincoln dipped his head to kiss the pale skin of Michael's chest again._

_“Harder, Lincoln,” Michael panted, his whole body shivering as Lincoln bucked underneath him. Lincoln groaned with want and complied with his brother's wish._

_“I'm gonna come, Michael,” Lincoln moaned in his brother's ear, pressing their sweat-slickened bodies even closer._

_“Lincoln!”_

“Dad!”

“Yeah, LJ, I'm here. I'm here. Bad dream?”

LJ didn't answer. _Oh shit._ In his mind, he and Michael had called out simultaneously for Lincoln; his treacherous body somehow including itself in the situation he'd been witness to only a day ago.

_Somehow, yeah right. I'm such a pervert._

“Yeah,” LJ lied, “bad dream.”

“I had them all the time, right after we got out,” Lincoln said, his voice soft and calm. Had LJ not just re-witnessed that incredibly erotic sight in his mind, his father's voice would have been incredibly soothing.

As it was, it was incredibly embarrassing.

“They stop after a while. I think. We're safe here, kid,” Lincoln continued, smiling at his son in the dark. Michael was sleeping behind LJ, his even breathing another reminder to the soon-to-be sixteen year-old of the things he knew he should not be thinking about.

LJ nodded at his father, then rolled onto his stomach and closed his eyes tightly. The forest. Yesterday in the forest. He had been wandering around, not really doing anything, when he'd heard the same kind of noises he'd heard the day he found T-Bag and Abruzzi.

He had assumed it was the same two men. Feeling less guilty than he should, LJ had again crept towards the source of the sounds, not sure of whether to feel eager or ashamed.

The men he found on the forest floor, were not Abruzzi and T-Bag. They were not a mobster and a murderer, giving and taking without mercy or gentleness. They were his father and his uncle, entwined in the most intimate position LJ had ever seen any two people in. Making love.

The image was not exactly soothing. LJ had never seen anything as erotic; it was so different from the other men's rough passion he did not even want to compare them. His father had held Michael with affection and love and warmth, and the younger brother had let himself be possessed in every way imaginable. His mind was screaming words at LJ when he thought about it; words like _tenderness_ and _heat_ and _wrong_ and _want_.

LJ wanted it all.

Whatever it was his father and uncle shared, LJ wanted it. The looks on their faces, the sounds they were making, the feelings they brought out in each other – LJ was burning with curiosity and he knew Michael and Lincoln could show him all the answers.

And now there he lay, desperately turned on by the vivid recollection of what he'd seen, and only inches from the very reasons for his discomfort.

As soon as he was pretty sure his father was asleep again, LJ silently crawled out of the tent. He headed over to the nearest cluster of trees, making sure to tread carefully. The last thing he needed was for someone to wake up and wonder why he was going for a stroll in the middle of the night.

Leaning back against a tree, LJ bit his lip and quickly untied his pyjama bottoms. Choking back the moans he knew he made when he usually did this, he hesitantly gripped his cock and started stroking himself. Screw it all; if he didn't fix this then he was going to come right there in his sleeping bag, right next to his father and uncle.

“Oh shit,” he whispered as the image of his father and uncle again flashed through his mind; their moans still clouding his head.

“I didn't know you were such a bad boy.”

LJ jumped, letting go of his aching erection as if burned. That hissing voice, accompanied by hot breath against his earlobe. T-Bag.

“What the -”

“Sneakin' away from your bed to engage in such, uh, un-Christian activities. Didn't your momma ever tell you, you'll lose that pretty eyesight o' yours if you can't keep your hands outta your shorts?” the murderer said softly, licking his lips blatantly.

LJ swallowed hard. “What do you want?”

“What do I want?” T-Bag repeated, placing a hand on LJ's wrist just as he was reaching for his pants to redress himself. “I want a lot o' things, but for now, I think a lil' bit o' this...” He guided LJ's hand down to lightly touch himself, “... will do just fine.”

“Wha... What?” LJ didn't find his tongue very cooperative; his mind seemed to have taken a tiny leave of absence, too.

“You heard me,” T-Bag said, before reaching down to tug the pyjama bottoms even lower. The Alabamian sank slowly to his knees, leaning on LJ's hips and pushing him even closer to the tree.

Suddenly things snapped into gear again.

“Hey, get off, man! I don't want this from you!” LJ tried, his voice wavering.

“Oh shush boi; you really think I'm askin' for your permission? Now be a good boy an' let Teddy have a taste,” T-Bag drawled, tightening long fingers around LJ's hip bones.

LJ's heart was thundering away in his chest, blood pounding in his ears. If he screamed, his father would be there in a heartbeat. His father, his uncle, the whole fucking camp. Why couldn't he just scream?

“Now, I promise, you're gonna like this,” T-Bag said, looking up at LJ with a devilish grin. LJ closed his eyes tight, his body tense.

When T-Bag's mouth was suddenly at the tip of his cock, his eyes sprang open. _Oh God!_ That tongue was already playing around the head, the lips sinking slowly, oh so slowly, downwards. Hot, wet, sucking, clamping; making LJ's head spin and his heart stop.

“Oh,” he gulped, clutching the tree behind him with both hands as he felt the ridge of the murderer's teeth slide along his skin.

Oh shit. Oh fuck. Oh God. LJ couldn't breathe; he'd never felt anything as intense as this. He tried to hold back, tried to calm himself, tried to stop; but he was drowning in the demanding heat of T-Bag's mouth.

“God!”

Choking on that single word, LJ came in T-Bag's mouth, pulsing and thrusting and _burning_.

“Ain't nobody ever called me God before,” the murderer smirked, licking his lips. Placing little nips around LJ's hip bones, he slowly got to his feet before leaning over LJ to hiss in his ear, “But I'm guessin' you never had anythin' to compare with, so you're excused.”

Then he turned around and headed back towards camp, throwing one last blow over his shoulder: “As I said earlier, just come an' find me whenever ya feel like it.”

LJ sank to the forest floor, barely tugging his pyjama bottoms up around his hips. _Did that just happen?_

Drawing a shaking breath, he leaned back against the tree trunk. He could have screamed. Maybe he should have. _Yeah right, idiot. As if you wouldn't have fucked his mouth if he'd tried to stop. God, I'm such a perv._

LJ got up again. Padding slowly back to his tent, he silently thanked T-Bag for swallowing. There would have been too many questions otherwise.


	2. Deja vu, Fernando?

_Papi!_

Sucre blushed a deep crimson. He could still hear himself; calling out Michael's nickname like a begging chick. _Coño!_ He should have left camp long before his dignity disappeared down Michael's throat along with his...

But his embarrassment did not change the fact that he was still jerking off to the memory of it. He missed Maricruz and he thought about her all the time, but there was no denying it: Michael's lips around him, Lincoln's grip on Michael's hips, the three of them at the water's edge – it was the best sex he'd ever had, strictly physically speaking.

Licking his lips guiltily, Sucre leaned back on his elbow in the dry grass and pushed his shorts down below his hips. Eyes closed, his head filled with images of Maricruz as he started stroking himself.

“You, er, you need a hand with that?”

Sucre sat bolt upright. That was not Michael's voice.

“What the hell, kid?” he said angrily, trying to yank his boxer shorts back up. LJ, standing a few yards away, blushed.

“I... I wanna try it. Giving head, I mean. And since you, you know, the other, uh, guys...” He trailed off, looking mortified but still intrigued.

“The other guys?” Sucre repeated, as shocked as he was embarrassed. “I'm not like them. I'm not gay.”

“So?” LJ said, stepping closer with a determined look on his face. “You don't have to be. I'd be the... the faggot.”

Sucre flinched. Did the kid know? Did he know all the details about that night on the beach, or had he just coincidentally copied his uncle's... persuasion techniques?

“LJ,” Sucre warned, “I'm not gay but if you keep pushing it, I'll do something stupid. _Comprende?_ ”

The boy smiled. “Good.” Then he swiftly dropped to his knees by the Puerto Rican's thighs, reaching for the older man's boxer shorts.

Sucre groaned, fighting the urge to push the boy's head down towards his groin.

“I probably suck at this,” LJ said with a nervous laugh. “But practice makes perfect, right?”

Sucre was about to protest when LJ closed a hand around him, tentatively feeling the size of the man on his back in the grass. Trying to steady his breathing, he closed his eyes and leaned back. The feeling of deja vu was overwhelming; the boy was a second Michael.

_Okay. Here we go._ LJ took a discrete breath and dipped his head towards the older man's groin. Uncertain of how to proceed, he decided to copy what he remembered from T-Bag's mouth last night and opened his mouth, placing his lips around the head of Sucre's cock. Then he slowly slid a little bit more into his mouth, feeling hot flesh push over his tongue. Focusing on the size and taste of the man in his mouth, LJ moved his head further down, trying to take Sucre all in.

“Kid,” Sucre panted, “you sure – oh shit, you're sure!”

As soon as the man started talking, LJ hollowed his cheeks and sucked harshly. He could hear the hesitation in the Puerto Rican's voice and he was not about to miss out on this opportunity just because his uncle's cellie decided to get all moralistic on him. Deciding this was definitely not the time to try his first deep-throating, LJ concentrated on the head and underside of the throbbing cock in his mouth, sucking and tonguing clumsily.

Sucre grasped the grass beside him and groaned. There were aeons between LJ and Michael where skill was concerned, but the wetness, the heat and the _determination_ of LJ's mouth was enough to set his mind reeling. With a hissed, “ _Dios!_ ” he gave in and released into LJ's mouth, arching forwards in desperate need of more.

When the hot, salty liquid hit his tongue, LJ's first response was to pull back. He'd never swallowed before; he always backed off and finished it with his hand. But the man underneath him was writhing and panting, emitting the most incredible groans. LJ continued sucking, swallowing as best he could. A few drops trickled down his chin.

“LJ,” Sucre panted when the boy finally let him go, “I'm... I mean, you...” He trailed off. He'd meant to say sorry; to apologize for something; but LJ was looking at him, wide-eyed and anticipating, Sucre's come still running down from the corner of his mouth.

Sucre didn't have the words to describe what that sight did to him.

“How... How was it?” LJ finally asked, blushing a little. He hadn't counted on the “afterwards” being to embarrassing.

Finally getting his wits together, Sucre almost managed a smile. “Good. It was good. ... You're freaking messed up, you know that?”

LJ smiled back, biting his lip. “Think I can blame it on my genes?”


	3. The making of a slut

“You coming for a swim, kid?” Abruzzi wiped the water out of his eyes and looked at the boy standing on the beach. “Or did you come all the way out here to stare at the horizon?”

Slowly, the boy kicked off his shoes, then reached for the hem of his shirt. Abruzzi made no effort to be discrete as he openly watched LJ undress. The boy had those pretty Scofield/Burrows eyes, his facial features like his uncle's but with the naïvety of his age. Abruzzi smiled slightly. A pretty boy if there ever was one.

Naked and clearly self-conscious, LJ waded into the water, stepping carefully despite the perfect sand underneath his feet. Abruzzi remained where he was, watching him.

“What?” LJ said, hesitant under the mobster's obvious gaze.

“I was just thinking what a pretty boy you are,” Abruzzi answered, completely unabashed.

LJ gave a start. “What?”

“And I was thinking, surely Theodore hasn't been hanging around here, seeing you every day, without having a go.”

LJ's blush vigorously confirmed the mobster's words. “I didn't... he...”

“He sucked you off,” Abruzzi guessed, knowing Theodore's inclinations. LJ bit his lip, then nodded. Abruzzi took a few steps towards the boy.

“It was fucking hot, wasn't it?” he said, moving closer still to LJ. “The best blowjob you've ever had.”

LJ was visibly squirming. “I don't... It's not like I've -”

“Shh.” Abruzzi stroke a finger down the boy's cheek. “Such a pretty boy. You think Theodore showed you the good part, LJ? There are things so much better. You want me to show you?”

LJ bit down hard on his lip again. He wanted to. God, he did. But he wasn't sure if he trusted Abruzzi to be... understanding.

“Relax, no one needs to know,” Abruzzi rumbled in LJ's ear before placing a hot kiss just below his jawline.

LJ was sure the sound he made could be categorized as a moan.

“That's right,” Abruzzi breathed, placing a hand on LJ's neck, stroking the skin. “You want to try everything, don't you?”

LJ nodded silently, looking up at the man before him through his lashes. John Abruzzi was tall, broad shouldered, rugged, demanding. Everything that made a real, physical man. God, he was attractive.

“This is the _really_ good part,” Abruzzi said, slowly running his hand down LJ's side until it was resting on his hip. He slipped that hand around LJ, coarse skin sending jolts of nervous anticipation through LJ.

“Oh shit,” LJ breathed as large fingers started tracing the curve of his backside. Abruzzi dipped his head low to kiss the boy's collar bone wetly, and LJ instinctively tilted his head back, giving the older man full access.

“That's right,” Abruzzi said against his skin, “you're doing it just... right. Now let me hear how much you like this.”

LJ gave a whimper as the older man pushed them closer together and slid a finger slowly over forbidden territory.

“I'm going to make this really good for you, kid,” Abruzzi said, voice deeper than LJ could ever have thought possible. “But you need to relax. Don't tense up.”

LJ nodded, gasping for breath as one big hand curled around his erection, the other still teasing tight muscle. Abruzzi smirked, then started moving both hands distractingly synchronized.

“Oh God,” LJ bit out as one finger pressed inside him. He'd never had anyone do _that_ and the feel of it, combined with the steady strokes on his cock, was just too overwhelming.

“It gets better,” Abruzzi groaned, the reaction of the boy incredibly erotic to him. “It gets so much better.”

LJ's head was spinning; his whole body was tingling and every inch of it was humming Abruzzi's name. That finger was heaven; he was so close to coming right there before they'd even begun anything for Abruzzi.

“Gonna... Can't...” LJ began. And then Abruzzi added a second finger to the first.

LJ cried out, he didn't know if it was pleasure or despair or _need_. The two digits were thrusting slowly, sliding and touching something that was so... _Oh God..._

“More,” LJ moaned, and Abruzzi curled those fingers inside him, stroking firmly with the other hand. LJ's mind collapsed; he fell apart and Abruzzi was holding the pieces.

“Oh God, I'm -”

The sound Abruzzi made in his ear tipped LJ over the edge. A deep, rolling, animalistic growl and he was coming, thrusting back against the warm hand holding his mind; he was tumbling, gasping...

“I told you it was better,” Abruzzi hissed in his ear, slowly pulling that hand back. LJ shuddered.

“Can we... maybe... do this again... sometime?” LJ finally asked breathlessly. He knew he was blushing, didn't quite know where to look or what to do with his hands.

“You just come find me, kid,” Abruzzi said, smirking. “Or Theodore.” Then he turned around and left, LJ staring after a broad back.

For a moment, images of fingernails raking down that back flashed through LJ, arousal trailing behind them. But his body disagreed. He felt so completely drained.

“Maybe I will,” he said to no one in particular. “If I don't find someone else first.”

The word ´slut` occurred to him, but it only made him laugh before he walked back to the beach line, looking for his shorts.


	4. Time for talk

Michael gave a sigh. This was getting tiresome.

“LJ.”

His nephew gave a start and looked the other way. “Yeah?”

“Anything you want to say?”

LJ's blush got slightly redder. “No. Why?”

“Because you've been staring at me for the last ten minutes with a blush sticking to your face like glue,” Michael smirked.

Aforementioned blush deepened until LJ's cheeks bloomed a deep crimson. He looked anywhere but at Michael. “Was it that obvious?”

Michael laughed. “Yes. Now are you going to tell me what it is?”

LJ bit his lip. “I don't think so. It's not... It's stupid.”

Michael got up from where he was sun bathing on his blanket. He stretched slowly before moving to sit down next to LJ on an old log.

“You've had a run-in with one of the other guys,” Michael said. “Well... of the good sort.”

LJ's head snapped up. “Did they -”

“They didn't tell me anything,” Michael said, laughing. “You're bisexual, 16, in a camp with four attractive men... I'd be surprised if you hadn't at least jerked off to one of them.”

LJ covered his face with his hands. “I'm so royally messed up,” he said. “They're too old for me, they're lovers, one of them isn't even interested in men...” He tailed off, looking timidly up at Michael. “And there are six, not four.”

Michael didn't answer. He didn't know how to tell LJ that they were all equally messed up, didn't know how to tell him that it was okay to feel that way about your own family; because technically, it _wasn't_.

“You know about me and Lincoln?” Michael asked.

LJ nodded. “I want to... I want that. Whatever it is. What you and my dad share.”

“It changes... things,” Michael said. “I'm not sure it's a good idea at your age.”

LJ shook his head. “I've already done... things with T-Bag, Abruzzi _and_ Sucre. How much worse can it get?”

Michael grinned. “True. And I'm hardly one to talk. I just want you to be careful so you don't do anything rash.”

LJ sat for a moment in silence, then glanced up at Michael. Placing a hesitant hand behind Michael's neck, he pulled the older man's head down towards his own. Michael offered no resistance as the boy slowly pressed their lips together.

LJ's hand slipped lower as Michael opened his mouth under LJ's clumsy lips. Stroking the skin of Michael's pale chest, LJ tried to move closer to the other man.

“LJ,” Michael said softly, breaking off, “you're sure?”

LJ nodded and laid a hand on Michael's shorts tryingly. Michael exhaled slowly under the sensations of fumbling fingers as they started loosening the ties of his shorts.

“Have you... been with a guy before? I mean, really...”

“Fucked someone?” LJ said, grinning nervously. “No. Just blow jobs.”

Michael got up, pulling LJ with him by the hand. “Well, come on, then. There's a first for everything.”

His uncle's smile made LJ's breath hitch and he had no choice but to follow the older man over to the blanket on the ground, watching Michael drop his shorts on the way.

“I – I don't know how,” LJ stuttered blushingly as Michael reached for the boy's shorts.

“Doesn't matter,” Michael said, his hands so warm against LJ's skin. “I'll help you out. Just take these off first.”

Slowly and less than gracefully, LJ pulled his shorts off and sat down on the blanket. He felt like covering his body up; Michael's body was so lean and toned, his skin pale and flawless. LJ felt incredibly self conscious.

Michael leaned over and kissed the boy gently. “We're not doing anything unless you want to. There are other ways.”

LJ shook his head. “I want to. Really. I just don't... I haven't done this before.”

Michael handed him a small lotion tube. “Lubrication,” he explained at LJ's confused look. “Here, let me...”

Taking the tube back, Michael half emptied it into his hand and stroke a finger down LJ's side. The boy shivered. _Sensitive._

“Just relax,” Michael said as he circled LJ's cock with his hand. The oily moisturiser slid between his fingers and LJ bucked forwards a little, struggling to stay still under the sensations. When Michael pulled back, LJ was blushing again.

“Now you just hold yourself still,” Michael said, getting to his knees and turning around in front of LJ.

LJ, still nibbling at his lip, got to his knees and looked at the older man again. His spine curved beautifully, his hips so narrow and defined. LJ reached out and placed a hesitant hand on the smooth skin near the base of Michael's spine.

Taking himself in hand, LJ shifted closer, positioning himself. He wanted this badly, but still he wasn't sure how to go about it all.

“Good,” Michael breathed when LJ's skin touched his, “now just push forwards.”

LJ licked his lips and moved slowly forwards, expecting resistance. Michael relaxed and pushed back against the boy's hips, releasing a little moan when he felt the head of LJ's cock slip inside him.

LJ was panting, nervous hands shifting restlessly over Michael's hips and the small of his back. It was so tight; there was heat and slick skin and all he could think of was Michael's beautiful body. He put a little more force in it and thrust further in, unknowingly pulling on the older man's hips.

“Am I... You okay?” LJ stuttered, buried to the hilt inside the man in front of him.

“Perfect,” Michael said, grinding his hips back against the boy's. “Now you just... move.”

LJ pulled back, almost all the way out, before thrusting quickly forwards again. He could hardly concentrate; his uncle was gripping him so tightly and he didn't know if he would last for even five minutes like this.

Mindful not to clench or move too much, Michael took himself in hand and started stroking. LJ felt wonderful inside him.

“I – uncle Mike, is this -” LJ was stuttering, trying to speak, failing. His voice was drowning in the sight, the heat, the _tightness_ of Michael. His breath catching in his throat, his body tensing, he felt waves of searing heat flow from his abdomen and spread throughout his whole body. Whimpering, he came, releasing inside the older man.

Feeling the boy's come spread inside him, Michael groaned in arousal and stroked himself faster. Just as LJ's cock slipped from him, he released into his hand, pumping his fist a few more times along himself.

“Oh God,” LJ panted, sinking down on the blanket. “God, that was...”

“Good,” Michael smiled, turning to kiss LJ again. “It was good.”

LJ hesitantly reached out to touch Michael's cheek. The older man smiled and turned his head to kiss the tips of LJ's fingers.

“Lincoln will kill me,” Michael sighed, lying down beside LJ and stretching leisurely. The boy watched, mesmerized, as his uncle's body curved sinuously.

“Don't say anything,” LJ said quickly, “I... I'll tell him.”

Michael sighed. “Lincoln was always very protective. I suppose it's better if he hears it from you.” A pensive silence, then, “Just for the record, who else have you been... experimenting with?”

LJ blushed prettily. “Um... T-Bag and Abruzzi. And Sucre. But that was just for... for practice.”

Michael laughed. “Poor Sucre, he's trying so hard to convince himself he's not gay, and we're ruining it for him.”

LJ gave a start. “We? You're lovers, too?”

“No,” Michael replied truthfully, “but I've sucked him off twice. I expect that was what you did, too?”

LJ nodded, giving Michael a strange look. “Are there any fixed couples here, or does everyone just fuck around?”

Michael couldn't contain the laughter that bubbled up from his throat. “Well, Abruzzi and T-Bag are kind of together, and I suppose your father and I have... an understanding. But jealousy isn't really our thing. Let's just say we like variety.”

LJ shrugged and closed his eyes, turning his face to the sun. “I want in. I mean, um, I'm not going to stay here, missing out on all the fun, am I?”

Michael looked at his nephew, a smile tugging at the corner of his lip. “I guess Lincoln and I have grossly underestimated you,” he said. “Just so long as this doesn't fuck your head up.”

“Hey, I've been accused of murder, been fingerfucked by a mob boss, fought the greatest government conspiracy in history _and_ seen my father and uncle going at it like rabbits,” LJ said, smirking at Michael. “I think I can handle a group of sexually liberated men.”

Michael gave a start. LJ had never seen anyone blush that quickly before. “You saw us?”

The boy shrugged. “There isn't much to do around here. And you guys were making enough noise to lead half the FBI straight to our location.”

Michael blushed furiously, clearing his throat. “Well. Your father has a way of... provoking a response.”

LJ broke out in laughter. “So that's your term for being well endowed.”

Michael couldn't help but laugh, half in shock, half in amusement. “Maybe you're right. There's not much left for us to fuck up.”


	5. Messed up

LJ drew a deep breath, releasing it slowly. He felt nervous and giddy and strangely self-conscious, but turning back was not an option. He was going through with this.

“LJ, Sucre and I are going shopping,” Michael called, pulling on a baseball cap. “Do you want to come?”

“No thanks, uncle Mike,” LJ said, smiling at his uncle. “I'm just gonna hang around camp. See you later.”

Michael waved and jogged after Sucre, who was already halfway across the camp site. C-Note had walked off only minutes earlier (LJ had distinctly heard him say something about fishing), Abruzzi and T-Bag were still asleep (it was about ten o'clock in the morning; it would appear they'd had a late night), and Lincoln was, according to Michael, off for a walk to his favourite spot.

LJ got up and headed for that spot; a small hill not far from the tents where you could see sunrises and sunsets alike.

***

“Hey, LJ,” Lincoln greeted his son as he approached.

“Hey,” LJ said, sitting down next to his dad. “What are you doing?”

Lincoln sighed. “Thinking. Breathing.” He paused, then grinned. “Trying to get away from Sucre's whining.”

LJ laughed. The Puerto Rican had complained all morning about how it was impossible to sleep as long as Abruzzi and T-Bag shared a tent. When they were loud, they were _loud_.

“Well, Sucre and uncle Mike went grocery shopping, so it's just us and the love bunnies left,” LJ said, his heart rate accelerating. This was it. No turning back now.

Slowly, so his father wouldn't freak out, LJ shifted a little closer to him, feeling the body heat of the older man.

Lincoln turned towards his son, mouth open to speak. When he saw the look on LJ's face, he changed his mind. The boy was biting his lower lip, looking up at him with a strange glint in his eyes. There was something about him that Lincoln knew, but didn't recognize. “What's going on, LJ?”

Quickly, before the older man had the chance to say anything more, LJ raised himself up enough to level his face with Lincoln's. As Lincoln's mouth opened in confusion, LJ darted forwards and kissed his lower lip.

“LJ!” Lincoln said, grabbing hold of his son's shoulders. “What are you doing?”

LJ's face was burning. “Kissing you.”

Lincoln held his son firmly in front of him at arm's length. “What? Kissing me! I figured as much, LJ! Why?” He was all but shouting by the end of it.

LJ didn't back down. “Because I wanted to. Because I love you, and I want... I want you to love me.”

“LJ, I love you, you know that,” Lincoln said, holding the boy's gaze. “But this is... You shouldn't... We can't.”

“Why not?” LJ insisted. “I know you love me. I want you to... to _make_ love to me. I want what you and Michael have.” The words all came in a rush; just like LJ had planned them but not right. Not like he had planned his own response; he wasn't supposed to blush and feel his throat constrict like this.

Lincoln let go of his son, covering his eyes with one large hand. “LJ,” he sighed, “I know how it looks, but... I don't love you any less just because Michael and I...”

LJ drew a shaking breath and placed a hand on his father's arm. “Dad. I know it's not right. I don't care. I've thought about this; I want it. I really want it. You and Michael and... everything.”

Lincoln looked at the boy, his brow furrowing. “You're just sixteen. I can't start messing you up at sixteen; not any more than I already have.”

LJ bit his lip again, this time trying not to smile. “Dad. I'm already royally messes up, trust me. You wouldn't be the one to -”

Something inside Lincoln snapped to attention. His son. Someone else. “Who?” he snarled, almost springing to his feet.

“Dad!” LJ shouted. “Calm down, will you? It's no big deal; just take it easy.”

“No big deal!” Lincoln roared, voice almost frantic. “Not even a month and that filthy bastard has already attacked you! I'm going to kill him; I'll tear his fucking guts out!”

“Calm down!” LJ shouted, grabbing his father's arm. “No one attacked me! I wanted to and they didn't do anything I didn't let them -”

“They!” Lincoln's voice rose to high pitch; he looked positively livid. “They! LJ, if T-Bag and Abruzzi so much as touched you, they're going to pay for it!”

LJ didn't know whether to laugh or cry. “Dad,” he said silently, “it wasn't just T-Bag and Abruzzi.”

Lincoln froze. Fell to his knees in the grass. Stared at LJ like a fish out of water. “More?” he asked, his voice somewhere between a horrified whisper and a furious growl.

“If you're going to scream like this, then I'll go off and do it again,” LJ said, hoping to get his father's attention.

Lincoln's jaw was so tight, it was a wonder nothing snapped. “LJ, you're going to tell me everything right now,” he said, breathing heavily through his nose, “Or I will -”

“Fine,” LJ said, feeling his face colour again. “T-Bag sucked me off while you were sleeping, I gave Sucre head because I wanted practice, and Abruzzi and I went for a swim. He, um, he...” LJ tailed off, not sure of how to tell his father about what, exactly, John Abruzzi had done to him.

Lincoln stared in shock at his son. “He _what_?” he hissed, not sure whether to slap the boy for being stupid or go kill the other guys right away.

LJ was blushing profusely by now. “Hefngerfckedme,” he muttered, avoiding his father's eyes.

Lincoln stared at LJ, trying to decipher what that mutter had meant. When it finally sank in, he covered his face in his hands. _Where the hell did I go wrong?_

“Dad.”

Lincoln gave a start. LJ was sitting very close to him, tentatively touching his cheek. “I wanted to. I wanted all of it. No one hurt me, and I would do it all again. Only... with you too.”

Lincoln groaned. “LJ,” he said, “I want to. God forgive me, but I do. But you... we...”

“Then tell me why not,” LJ said, determination steeling his voice. “Think about you and Michael, and me and Michael, and then tell me why not.”

It took a few moments before the implication sank in with Lincoln. “You... and Michael?”

“Yeah, me and Michael. He... he showed me,” LJ said, stuttering. “I wanted to learn, and he taught me.”

Lincoln sat still. This was exactly what he'd feared when LJ had first come to live with them. Having sex with his brother and having sex with his son; both so wrong and so tempting. He loved them, he really did; it was just... more than that.

Finally, he turned to look LJ in the eyes. “Are you sure?”

LJ rolled his eyes. “Why does everyone ask me that? 'Am I sure', of course I am. Like I would have even mentioned it if I wasn't sure. You should all take a leaf out of T-Bag's book and just do it.”

Lincoln's eyes darkened. “Hey, I was kidding!” LJ quickly said, attempting a smile. When Lincoln didn't return that smile, LJ sighed. “I was kinda hoping... Sorry, dad. I won't bring it up again.”

LJ was getting to his feet when Lincoln's hand on his wrist yanked him back to tumble into the grass next to the older man.

“Screw it all to hell and back again,” Lincoln said, dipping his head towards LJ's. When strong yet hesitant lips touched down on his own, LJ immediately opened his mouth under Lincoln's in sensual invitation. A possessive tongue pressed into LJ's mouth, warmth and strong arms circling him.

The delicate whimper LJ made, drew a needy groan from Lincoln's throat and spurred him to manoeuvre them both down on the ground, the older man leaning on his elbows over the boy beneath him.

“Fuck me,” LJ begged against the older man's lips, blushing from embarrassment and passion alike. Lincoln claimed his lips again, moaning into the boy's mouth. The kiss deepened while inexperienced hands started yanking at Lincoln's shirt, loosening button by button.

Shirts ripped open, shoes kicked off, fingers fumbling with zips and tyings. LJ was panting, struggling with Lincoln's shorts with one hand while trying to get to the lotion tube in his pocket with the other.

“Easy,” Lincoln breathed, stilling LJ with a slow, lingering kiss to the lips. “Let me do it.”

Moving down LJ's body, the older man slowly opened the fly of LJ's shorts before pulling them down.

“In my pocket,” LJ stuttered as his father's lips left a wet trail across his hip bone. “Lotion.”

Lincoln growled. Did LJ even know what he was asking him to do?

“LJ,” Lincoln murmured in his ear, “What do you want?”

“I want you to fuck me,” LJ said, eyes open and pleading. “I want you to... to be the first.”

Somewhere between ridding themselves of their boxers and digging the lotion tube out of LJ's pocket, his son's words really entered Lincoln's mind. “You... haven't done this before.”

“I want to,” LJ said, stretching his neck to kiss Lincoln's broad chest above him. It was playful and awkward, and Lincoln couldn't imagine a more erotic thing. “I want this from you. Please.”

Lincoln felt lust suffuse his mind; taking LJ's earlobe into his mouth, he skimmed his hand down the boy's side before letting it come to rest on his thigh. LJ whimpered and his hips bucked, straining for contact. When his father's hand finally closed around him, LJ gave a cry of pleasure and his back arched off the ground.

“You ready?” Lincoln asked, squeezing some lotion into his hand. LJ nodded, red lips open and a pretty flush colouring his cheeks. Lincoln kissed his son again as he slowly slid a finger downwards from LJ's erection.

“Dad!” LJ moaned when that finger started pressing slowly inside him. “Oh God, more!”

It was all Lincoln could do not to throw LJ's legs wide and take him hard right there. Pressing his finger all the way in, he placed a wet kiss just left of LJ's nipple before pulling his hand back. The second thrust brought two digits into LJ's welcoming body.

“Harder,” LJ begged, his head thrashing from side to side. Lincoln thrust the two fingers roughly in and out a few times before adding a third. LJ bit his lip and bucked against his father's hand.

“God, LJ, you're so beautiful,” Lincoln whispered in the boy's ear, slowly fucking him with three fingers. “You're so pretty and I'm going to make this so good for you.”

Moaning wantonly, LJ tilted his head back as Lincoln started sucking harshly at his pulse point, feeling hammering heartbeats under his lips.

When Lincoln thrust four fingers inside LJ, the boy keened with pleasure and grabbed his father's wrist. “Fuck me,” he begged again, this time with more lust than determination in his voice. “Now.”

Lincoln slicked himself up, then shifted into position between LJ's legs. “I want to look at your face,” Lincoln said, pressing his cock slightly against LJ's opening. “I want to see you when I take you.”

LJ gave another whimper and tried to press closer yet to his father. When Lincoln started pushing slowly into him, he gasped in a mixture of pain and intense pleasure; when the head of Lincoln's cock slipped inside him LJ cried out and arched off the ground.

“LJ,” Lincoln panted, the effort not to ram into the boy tearing at him. “You okay?”

“Shit, yes!” LJ moaned, writhing beneath the older man. “Yes!”

Unable to hold off any longer, Lincoln started moving with slow, deep thrusts, coming up flush against the lithe body beneath his own for each move. LJ was moaning, panting, the sting of Lincoln's large cock almost completely drowned out by the electric waves shocking his mind into surrender for each time Lincoln hit just _that_ spot.

Higher with each heartbeat; each thrust pushed LJ further up that mountain side and spiralled him off into something strange, something undiscovered. When Lincoln whispered, “I love you” in his ear and a large hand teased LJ's testicles, LJ was thrown off the cliff side with a cry, twitching and tensing and coming over his father's hand, their stomachs, their chests. Feeling the tightening around him, Lincoln smiled deviously and his lips closed around LJ's nipple, sucking hard.

Falling through pleasure and aftershocks, Lincoln's lips drawing out every last sensation of his orgasm, LJ clutched the broad shoulders above him, nails digging into warm skin. Stubble grazed across his chin, and he opened his mouth lazily to accept the older man's probing tongue.

“Dad,” LJ gasped, crashing back to earth, “God, that was -”

Lincoln silenced him with a kiss. “Glad you liked it,” he chuckled. “So do you mind if I...” He rolled his hips once. LJ drew in a slow breath at the feeling of Lincoln, still hard and large inside him.

As the older man started moving, LJ tried to calm himself to just accept the thrusts. But Lincoln felt so hard, so smooth, so _hot_ inside him; he couldn't help but weakly place his arms around Lincoln's waist and pull his father closer.

“I want you to come inside me,” he whispered, blushing even as he did so. He wasn't sure what had made him say that, but Lincoln groaned desperately and pressed their lips together, his body begging for more.

“God, LJ, you have no idea what that does to me,” Lincoln panted, his brow furrowing. LJ laid back and focused on the intense pleasure, almost too much after his orgasm, spearing through him with the older man's every move.

“I want you to fuck me until you come,” LJ panted in Lincoln's ear. “I want you to show me everything.”

Lincoln came hard, thrusting his release into the soft body beneath him in the grass before sinking down on top of the boy, breath choking. He pulled out. They lay still for a while, breathing and feeling their hammering heartbeats against each other.

“LJ,” Lincoln finally said, kissing his son gently, “where did you learn to talk like that?”

LJ grinned self-consciously. “I don't know. Call it bad influence. But I meant it.”

Another silence, then a slight blush slowly crept onto Lincoln's face. “So. The point of no return. I've really messed you up now, haven't I?”

LJ laughed. “No. _I've_ messed _you_ up.”

Lincoln sighed. “Well. I guess I won't be able to keep you away from anything now, will I?”

LJ shook his head. “Nope. Particularly not the 'ass rodeos'.”

“LJ!”

“Sorry, dad. Couldn't help but overhear Sucre and C-Note talking.”

Lincoln's face was steadily growing redder again. “They don't know what they're talking about.”

“Oh, that's right,” LJ grinned, “they weren't the ones partying with Abruzzi, T-Bag, Michael and too much tequila.”

“What the hell! Who told you that?” Lincoln was roaring again.

“Honestly, dad. Put six men in a camp like this, two of which are not gay but forced to register the fact that the other four are... well, you were there... ´and if someone don't go tellin' folks, you're doin' it wrong`.”

It took Lincoln a moment or two to fully register who, exactly, LJ was imitating.

“You are not talking to T-Bag alone from here on! Not one word, you hear me?”

“Fine,” LJ grinned, finding it hard not to laugh at his father. “I'll just have to wait until you're there to ask him to tutor me in oral sex, then.”

“LJ!”

“Sorry, dad. It was a joke, a bad joke.”

And from the way Lincoln exhaled heavily, a vein standing out in his forehead, LJ decided he would not tell his father that it wasn't a joke at all.


End file.
